


Please call me if you're going to be dead for a while.

by Bettyboop13



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Angst, Character Death, Deadpool being Deadpool, Drowning, Fluff, M/M, Nervousness, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Romantic Soulmates, Seeing colors when you meet your soulmate, Soulmates, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bettyboop13/pseuds/Bettyboop13
Summary: Spideypool Challenge:AU where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate:ADDITIONALLY when your soulmate dies, the world goes back to black and white:No but can you imagine having a normal day at work or running errands but then everything suddenly goes black and white
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 33
Kudos: 437





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt stolen (?) from: https://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com/post/101118660910/au-prompts-masterlist-of-lists 
> 
> I wanna work on my writing skills so I can finish other fics I've started, so I'm challenging myself to write Spideypool. :)

“For the last time, it’s not real!” Peter slammed the car door angrily.

“Don’t be such a dick, Pete.” MJ sneered at him, locking her car as the three got out. She was very done with this argument. “Just because your eyes haven’t Opened yet doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

“MJ,” Ned groaned, MJ and Peter had been arguing over this for weeks now. Weeks _straight_, and poor Ned really didn’t care to have his two best friends arguing and confrontational all the time.

“Just because it hasn’t happened to you, doesn’t mean it isn’t real!” MJ was bordering on getting genuinely upset, something neither boy was used to. “My eyes Opened ok. Look! That’s red! That’s purple! The sky is blue!”

“You’re delusional.” Peter rolled his eyes. “It just changes naturally, ok? There’s no “Opening”, you just reach a point in your life where you can see colour, then one day you can’t. No mystery about it. No “soulmates”. Just biology.”

“Peter, you know you’re -” Ned started but Peter shot him a look and he stopped.

Peter didn’t believe in soulmates, or the Opening. Even if every single person he’d ever met said he was wrong, nothing was going to change his mind. Because he knew it didn’t work. Even before he was bitten by that jacked up spider, his vision had fluctuated between colour and black and white for some time now. Doctors could never find anything wrong with him.

He was just… broken.

So, when MJ claimed to have had her Opening after their first day of college, Peter was pretty angry about it. Unreasonably, he knew. He was happy for her, as he would also be happy for Ned if he had his Opening. He was just so angry! Jealous! He struggled to believe that literally _everyone _on earth had never had his issue. How come, on top of the massive burden of being a literal superhero who faces death nightly, as well as working part time and going to college, his stupid soulmate connection was fucked up. Either he does or doesn’t have a soulmate and he’ll never be able to figure it out.

Sometimes, the colour would stay. Peter would see all the wonderful colours life had to offer, often for months at a time! Once he nearly made it to six months. But then it went like that. In the blink of an eye. It was hard to be Spiderman when you’re chasing someone in a yellow blazer then suddenly you can’t see any colours. Or when you’re just swinging though the busy streets and suddenly, WHAM! A thousand colours in your face. The monochrome would last an hour or two, once it lasted a few days and Peter got nervous that it was never changing back.

The only person in his entire world who would listen with no judgement, without trying to argue with him, or bring evidence in his face further reminding him that he’s broken, was Deadpool. Deadpool would always listen when Peter complained about it, and even though he’d previously said he has been able to see colours for a few steady years now, he never brought it up. He never even spoke about his soulmate. And Peter was so grateful for it. It was only sucky when Peter would be getting nervous about permanent monochrome and Deadpool wouldn’t be around.

It wasn’t until early one summer morning when he’d find out why that was. He had been sitting on top of a light pole, taking a temporary break from make the rounds of the city, when he spotted Deadpool running his way.

“What’s up, big guy?” Peter said, lowering himself so he was upside down at Deadpool’s eye height. Deadpool got to him and paused, catching his breath.

“Bad guys. After me.” He panted.

“What’d you do this time?” Peter asked, unamused as several thug looking guys came around the corner. “And why’re you running?”

“Gotta get them in an alley or the scope is too big, baby boy.” Deadpool explained, smiling behind his mask. Right. If they aren’t cornered, they aren’t fun.

“Right. Want some help?”

“Always, Webs!”

Peter swung above the red merc as he ran to the nearest alleyway, thugs in tow. Once they were safely down in the alley, thinking they had Deadpool cornered, Spiderman landed behind them.

“Howssit fellas?” He waved. “What’d the nasty man do to you?”

The thugs didn’t feel like answering and started to attack both suited heroes. But of course, it wasn’t much of a struggle for either man to fight off half a dozen regular men. In practically no time Peter had them webbed together, hanging upside down from a nearby fire escape. He dusted off his hands as Deadpool collected their guns and knives, stashing them in his numerous pockets.

“Wanna tell me what you did?” Peter asked him, hands on his hips.

“Gosh mom, I just stole a couple thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine is all,” Deadpool said in a fake southern drawl. “Don’t worry sweet cheeks, all flushed away. I don’t snort the devils baby powder.”

Peter nodded his approval and bent down to pick a gun by his feet, ignoring Deadpool’s inappropriate comment on his ass for the trillionth time. Peter suddenly felt his Spidey-sense go off with alarms and several shots rang out. Without thinking Peter whipped around and webbed the late comer, another thug, and smacked him into the wall before yanking him towards his waiting fist.

“God, there’s always _one, _hey Pool.” Peter swung the now unconscious body up with the others. “Pool?”

But Deadpool was face down on the cement, brain very exposed out the back of his head. That last thug had some wicked aim to get headshots at that distance. But Peter had barely time to realise this. He knelt beside Deadpool and rolled him over. But he wasn’t even breathing. Peter’s brain felt like it was about to explode. Not only was his closest friend in the entire world apparently dead, which he didn’t know could happen, but his vision was once again plunged back into black and white.

Peter sat on a rooftop, mask off, rocking back and forth in a ball next to Deadpool’s dead body. Somewhere in the back of his head he remembered the merc bragging about his regeneration abilities, and Peter had certainly seen enough arms and legs growing back to believe him. And it wasn’t like he was about to waltz into the hospital with a potentially dead mercenary on his shoulder. He was waiting for Deadpool to come back, praying he would. He didn’t know how he’d cope knowing the beefy, hilarious ray of sunshine in his life might be out of it for good. But also... Would the colours come back?

Peter steepled his hands under his nose. He tried to keep his breathing steady and stop himself from spiralling, but he couldn’t help the thought that there’s was possibility that Deadpool was his soulmate. It would almost make sense. If Deadpool could come back to life, that would explain why the black and white came back. But that would mean Deadpool died a _lot_. And that this kill-happy-man-child was his _soulmate_. And that Peter may not be _broken_. The last thought brought tears to his eyes, but he tried to push it aside.

The sky was starting to lighten. Peter didn’t care. He’d be here for his friend. Certainly, if you could come back to life it’d be pretty jarring. And you’d feel a bit under the weather, right? He would call in sick to college. To work. Whatever. He was too focused on the matter at hand. And the potential answer to years of questions, that he might be normal after all. Well. As normal as a mutated sppider bitten human could be.

Suddenly, three things happened simultaneously; Deadpool took a breath, his suit was suddenly wonderfully red, and Peter started crying.

Deadpool let out a small groan, hand coming up to hold his head, still ringing with the impact from the bullets. It took him a few seconds to come around, splitting headache and all. He then noticed the stranger beside him, dressed in Spiderman’s suit, sobbing heavily.

“Webs?” Deadpool said, his voice croaky, but terrifyingly normal. “Y-your mask...”

Peter launched forward and plastered himself on the mercs chest, still sobbing. Deadpool confusingly put his arms around the small frame, his head gradually clearing. He tried sitting up, pulling Peter into his lap worryingly.

“Were you _that_ worried for me, baby boy? I’m sorry, I should have told you-”

“I can see!” Peter nearly screamed, grinning up at him. Deadpool’s panda eyes couldn’t have gotten wider.

“See what?” Deadpool all but forgot about being dead, too concerned about his friend, who turned out to be goddamn gorgeous, crying in his arms.

“C-colour! It’s you! You – you died, and it all went away. So, I waited. And then you were back, and my colours were back!” Peter wiped his cheeks, leaving Deadpool speechless. Peter stopped crying, looking up at the now statue like merc. He snapped his fingers in front of Deadpool’s face, but he didn’t move. “Did you die again?”

“You mean,” Deadpool spoke again, then cleared his throat. “You mean you and I are…?”

“Do you die often?” Peter was looking up at him, eagerly and lovingly.

“I guess.”

“And did you Open, like, ten years ago when I did?” 

“I sorta lose track of time, being dead off and on and all, but… that sounds right.” Deadpool swallowed, a little overwhelmed. Peter hadn’t seen the merc so lost for humour before. He frowned a little, suddenly jumping off his lap.

“Oh. Um. Sorry if this, you know… is disappointing to you.” Peter glanced towards his mask a few feet away, feeling embarrassed and wanting to flee. Of course, Deadpool probably isn’t stoked that his soulmate is just _Peter_. He’s been so fixated on himself he didn’t stop to think about what it would be like for the other person. “It’s just, well, all this time I’ve been thinking I was broken or something and I -”

“Stop. STOP!” Deadpool jumped up, stumbling a little bit, and took Peter by the shoulders. “You think that you could be a disappointment to me?”

“Well um,” Peter bowed his head. “Yeah?”

Deadpool again was silent for a few seconds, just staring at Peter in disbelief.

“Webs.” He sounded very serious. “You are _not_ a disappointment. Farthest thing from it, baby boy. Are you fucking kidding me right now? Have I _not_ been inappropriately flirting with you for _years_ now?? I mean just -” Deadpool lifted a gloved hand to touch Peter’s cheek but paused. “This is seriously the face you’ve been keeping secret all this time?”

“Um, yeah?”

Deadpool huffed, slowly stroking his cheek, “That’s some fucking cruel shit, right there. Hands down, best face in New York. Willing to bet the world, but I haven’t been to Sweden yet. I hear the girls there are pretty banging.”

“Are you sure?” Peter almost felt dizzy from the endorphins of everything that was happening.

“I should be asking you that, you haven’t seen the car wreck that _I_ hide yet.” Deadpool gestured to his entire body. Peter looked him up and down, then frowned like he didn’t believe him. Deadpool signed and stepped back. “Well, I suppose if we’re destined to be together you should probably see.”

Peter watched excitedly as his friend removed his mask, annoyingly slow for his liking. His eyes widened as he looked at his soulmates face for the first time. His heart all but dropped straight through to China.

“I know.” Wade nodded, “It’s pretty fucking awful. Feel free to gag, I know I -”

“No, no.” Peter stepped forward, getting a closer look. He could see the slight reddening of the less scared places of Deadpool’s cheeks. “I think we might have a contender for the best face in New York.”

“You’re just saying that because we’re soulmates,” Deadpool sneered, going to put his mask back on. But Peter snatched it out of his hands and held it behind his back.

“I’m serious!” Peter said sternly. “You have amazing eyes. And look at those cheekbones are you kidding me?”

Deadpool’s face softened as he stared at Peter. The two looked at each other, both being illuminated by the early morning sun starting to peak its way over the horizon. Colours never looked so beautiful.

Peter’s life was infinitely better moving forward. Not only because he had his soulmate now, but because he knew he wasn’t broken. He was just fine and adored by a man _he_ adored. Wade freaking Wilson. They had moved in together, into Wade’s apartment. It was not a contest about who would move in with whom. And now Peter would wake up every morning, sunlight streaming in the windows, lighting up the room with colours, and best of all was the face of his soulmate in complete colourful HD.

Life wasn’t without it stresses though. At first when things would go back to black and white Peter would dissolve into a panic immediately and rush out to find what trouble Wade had gotten himself into this time. Though as time passed, he got less panicky. Wade always came back. And it was considerably better to know that when the world was suddenly enriched with lush colours, that his sexy ray of sunshine was ok, and he would see him soon. The worst thing in all honesty was the teasing everyone gave him when he admitted that he actually, after all, _did_ believe in soulmates.

Peter woke up one night, he had been tossing and turning. He wasn’t sure what had woken him. But after a quick flail around in the big bed he discovered he was alone. That’s what had woken him, the feeling of being alone in bed. He rolled over onto his back and blinked up at the ceiling.

Wade must have been itching to go out; they usually went together but Peter had been too exhaust after exams to bother. Peter reached over to his bedside table to check the time. It was nearly 5. And everything black and white. Peter sighed, only a few more hours of sleep until he had to be up.

He suddenly sat upright. Black and white?? He turned the lamp on and looked around the room. Sure, enough everything was monochrome. Taking a few deep breathes Peter lay back down, watching the ceiling and counting in his head. He shot Wade a text: Call me when ur back to life x

“Come on, Wade.” He muttered to himself. He continued to look intently at the ceiling, as if his sheer determination would bring Wade back. It was one thing for Wade to die in front of him, and another for him to die apart form him, Peter having no way to know how badly he was hurt or if he was _actually dead for real this time_. After about half an hour the colour bled back into Peter’s room, and his phone started buzzing.

“You okay?” Peter answered, relief flooding his body.

“Sorry, baby boy. Accidental as always.” Wade’s chipper voice was even more reassuring. “Slipped and fell off a building.”

Peter sighed; he knew telling Wade to be careful was pointless. “Come home please.”

“Don’t worry, sweet cheeks. Daddy Deadpool is invincible! Well, 99% of the time.”

“Come. Home.” Peter growled. He didn’t like being reminded about that 1%. It was his biggest fear. That that 1% chance that one day the colours would never come back.

“Okay. I’m bringing condoms and cherry pie!”

“You don’t have to buy me off for getting yourself killed again, handsome.” Peter yawned.

“But I’m _sorrryyyyy_”

“Then come home and prove it, coward.”


	2. Excuse me WHEN DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO DIE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’ just doing his Spidey stuff, swinging around, punching bad guys. The norm. That was until he drowned.

Peter was just doing his Spidey stuff, swinging around, punching bad guys. The norm. That was until he drowned. Some bad guys got onto a boat, so Peter gave chase and was on the boat – beating them up and everything, then someone tackled him over the side and into the water. And this guy was _heavy_ dragging them both down as Spiderman struggled to get away. Peter never really dug being in the water, spiders weren’t the best swimmers. So pretty soon, water was in his nose, in his mouth, in his lungs. The surface was _so_ close… _so_ far…

Wade had been at a bakery, buying fresh bread, because Peter liked fresh bread the best and Wade would wait in line at this popular bakery for hours if he had to, when it happened.

He was tired. Despite being up late into the night with Peter talking, like they often did, Peter was out and about as Spiderman early this afternoon. Wade hadn’t felt up to going, barely able to stand on his own two feet, but he would make sure he had a lovely dinner made for when his soulmate would get home. That’s the least he could do. But then the vibrant colours of the warm bakery left, and the world suddenly felt very cold. And empty. It took Wade a few seconds to realise what had actually happened – this had _never _happened to him before. Peter was…

Wade wanted to drop to his knees and howl, to start sobbing, to run desperately to where Peter might be. But all he did was stand there, noticing how grey the world was, his mind unable to think of how to cope. He didn’t know where Peter was, he had no way of getting to him. Peter wasn’t like Wade – Peter wasn’t familiar to the bitter taste death left on your tongue, the smell of hot tar that limbo had. Would Peter even be able to drag himself back??

The people around Wade began to notice him, since he had started crying. _‘Are you okay?’ ‘Sir?’ ‘Can we help you?’ ‘Did…did the colours leave?’ ‘Should we get him to the hospital?’ _Wade was suddenly aware of the TV in the corner of the bakery – Breaking News: Spiderman was pulled from the east river. That wasn’t far.

Wade just about knocked people over he turned to leave to quickly, dropping his newly procured bread and running. Sprinting. It wasn’t fast enough! Nothing was going to be fast enough. Nothing would ever be fast enough anymore. Wade should have been there – he should have put aside his sleepiness and still gone with Peter. Even though Peter didn’t _need_ him there, today, _of all days_, he should have been there. It should have been him. He should have been there. It should have been him. _He should have been there. It should have been him. He should have been there. It should have been him. **He should have been there. It should have been him. He should have been there. It should have been him**._

Spiderman was pulled from water at 5:08pm and was announced dead two minutes later. The criminal who drowned with him was all but forgotten as a crowd started to gather around, civilians shocked and heartbroken. Off the mask came, but no one was really paying attention to the face, too lost in confusion and sorrow. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

_Wade nearly fell, he was going at such speed. His feet ached._

“Try!” Someone shouted to the ambulance team that had been called. The older medic sighed, knowing there’d be no point, the younger ones hesitating.

_Wade’s lungs were burning._

“Please! You’ve got to _try_!” Another person shouted; the crowd become an uproar with pleas. Someone had to at least try. And so, the medical team prepared the defibrillator, for the crowd more than anyone else.

_Nearly there, come on._

Some onlookers turned away as the CPR started, the unresponsive lifeless body unnerving them. One medic in particular, was trying hard – it was possible, very, very, very marginally. Who knew what Spiderman could do!

Wade reached the crowd, his body forcing him to stop and breathe; his entire _being_ aching knowing Peter was right across the road. He had stopped crying now, all his energy had been diverted into running across town. Now his eyes burnt, and he crossed the street. He tried pushing past the circle of onlookers, but people resisted.

“P-Please!” His voice was hard to find at first, “He’s… he’s my soulmate!”

People whirled around furious at the accusation, surely a lie to get a closer look, but they saw Wade’s expression and quietened. He was eventually allowed through, pushing and pleading. He wasn’t allowed to say he was a superhero’s soulmate, not someone as deformed and ordinary as he was – not that Wade cared what the public thought. The police were starting to set up a perimeter, but Wade had no trouble pushing past that, then Wade could see the one young medic still tirelessly working to revive –

This time Wade did fall to his knees, sobbing loudly. Seeing Peter’s body… it had to of been over five minutes now, even if the water had been cold, Wade knew how low the chances were. Was this it now? Black and white forever? The last thing in colour he saw was bread? The last time he saw his soulmate alive was when Peter asked if Wade would come with him today? Then smiling, kissing his head, and telling Wade to go back to sleep. Why was Peter always so goddamn _sweet!!_

“Come on now...” The older medic said quietly, but the younger one shook her head and did not stop her efforts. Policemen were trying to console Wade, move him on and understand his disjointed wailing. But Wade was inconsolable; he just wanted to die. For reals this time. Just eternal damnation, finally. Let the black take him.

…

_Gasp_

Coughing.

The crowd started to murmur as the medics suddenly became very busy, then there was celebratory shouting. Wade had had his eyes screwed shut so tight, that went he opened them again the colours and light were absolutely blinding.

Peter was _alive_. Somehow.

Wade struggled up to his feet, stumbling, the police officers catching him. But Wade was suddenly running again, over the short distance to Peter’s side. Sure enough, the chest was moving. Eyes, though nearly shut, were moving around. Wade let out the loudest sigh he’d ever done and knelt, taking Peter’s hand. The medics didn’t even question it, they were too busy trying to get oxygen to the hero’s lungs and make sure he was going to stabilise.

There are no earthly or other planetary words that can describe the _relief _Wade was feeling. He wanted to cry all over again, but instead he watched the medics and kept a tight grip on Peter’s hand. Peter kept a tight grip back.

“You go through this all the time?”

“Well… no. I know you’re coming back.”

Wade sighed again, feeling exhausted. Not as exhausted as Peter was feeling, granted. They were both squished into a hospital bed, since the medics that had rescued him were pretty insistent Peter at least stay in the hospital until he felt good enough to go home. And sign some autographs as thanks. They agreed not to take any samples of him, should his enhanced DNA get into the wrong hands, and Peter croakily demanded Wade stay _right beside him_. And Peter didn’t feel relaxed until he had Wade’s body against him, crushed together, the way it should be.

“I can’t believe you do this every day.” Peter whispered; vocal cords too waterlogged for much talking.

“Shhh, it’s not every day.” Wade stroked his head, kissing his temple. “Baby boy, that was so fucking scary.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I should have been there.”

“Yeah maybe.” Peter smiled sleepily. “Maybe then you could have taken the bullet for me. I don’t like drowning.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgi-”

“Shut up. I’m a dead man walking don’t bum me out.”

Wade chuckled and squeezed him tightly. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“Suits me just fine.”

“I’m too used to seeing colours. I don’t remember ever giving you permission to take them from me.”

“Consider it payback.”

“Ouch.” Wade shook his head, smirking and stroking Peter’s head again, rhythmically this time. “Tired, my love?”

“Mhm.”

“Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

Peter nodded, cuddling up and getting comfortable. “You wanna take a trip?”

“To where?”

“I don’t know. Texas.”

“Far from the water?”

“Exactly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked the second chapter ~ I really was unmotivated to write this but eventually found some good, angsty music. It's a bit short but oh well xD Probably a bit medically inaccurate but I know people can technically come back from drowning.
> 
> You know the dirll ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a longer, angstier one but I found the prompt and I got this idea and I just HAD TO! Also wanted to waste time waiting for my animations to load, but it's nearly 2am and I'm not sure if it's written the best. My apologies for mistakes!  
Kudos and comment if you like it, praise makes my day <3


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